


Idiota

by nikkiRA



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, i dont speak italian ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkiRA/pseuds/nikkiRA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Chiron is standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed. If you’ve never been stared down angrily by a Centaur while you’re semi-hard, consider yourself lucky. Nico would not recommend it."</p><p>Will finally figures out what Nico is always mumbling about under his breath in Italian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Idiota

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. this story came from the idea that nico would have the hugest potty mouth and will would not be comfortable with it  
> 2\. i do not speak italian, if there are issues with this translation blame google! edit: thanks to aleeeeeeee___ in the comments for correcting my translation!  
> 3\. they're both about seventeen in this?? because i said so  
> 4\. you're beautiful

“It’s _swearing.”_

Nico raises his eyebrows. Will had knocked on his door at the ungodly hour of seven AM – goddamn children of the sun. Nico had opened the door, ready to chew out whomever had decided to wake him this early; he had been doing things for his father the past few days and had special permission from Chiron to sleep until he woke up. He’s not happy at being woken up early even if it was Will.

The boy in question was standing at Nico’s door, a book in his hand. Nico slumps against the doorframe.

“ _What?”_

“All those times you were mumbling under your breath in Italian and I never knew what you were saying but you were _swearing.”_

Nico still just stares. “I still don’t follow you.”

Will sighs. “You always mumbled things in Italian and I could never understand but I started noticing you were using specific words a lot so I looked them up and you’re _swearing.”_

Nico doesn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He looks at the book in Will’s hand.

“What is that?”

Will lifts the book up so Nico can see it better. “An Italian-English dictionary.”

“When did you buy an Italian-English dictionary?”

Will blushes and looks at the steps. “Before I left for camp this year.”

Nico narrows his eyes. “ _Why_ did you buy an Italian-English dictionary?”

“I told you, because you always mumble in Italian and I wanted to know what you were saying.”

“Why wouldn’t you just _ask_ me?”

“I… I didn’t think you’d tell me,” he says, very quietly. Nico exhales angrily.

“So instead of even _trying,_ you decided to try and learn Italian?”

“Um.” Will rubs at the back of his neck. “Yes? But you speak too fast so I was never able to use it, but then I started noticing you’d been using the same words over and over and I was able to look it up and you’re _swearing_ in _Italian.”_

Nico sighs, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes. “Okay? You’re the one who told me you didn’t like how much I swore. When I told you I’d try to cut back I meant in _English._ I don’t have the will-power to stop swearing altogether.”

Will huffs. “Well… still.”

Nico strongly wants to leave the conversation and go back to bed, but something tells him there’s more to this conversation than his Italian potty mouth. This, he thinks, is why he used to work alone. The Nico di Angelo of three years ago would never have to deal with shit like this at seven in the morning.

But, he thinks, the Nico di Angelo of three years ago wasn’t exactly the happiest of campers. Literally and figuratively.

“This isn’t about me swearing, is it?”

Will stands up straighter. “Of course it is.”

Nico closes his eyes. “Will. I’m about to fall asleep standing up. No offence, but either tell me what this is really about or I’m going to listen to what my doctor told me prior to his mental breakdown and _rest.”_

Will takes a deep breath. Then he says, “It’s nothing. Go to bed. Doctor’s orders.”

Then he turns and walks away.

Nico stands on the step and debates with himself for a minute. Then he glares up at the sun. “Curse your goddamn children,” he mutters to it, before closing the door and following Will.

He finds him in the infirmary. There isn’t anybody who needs dire attention so instead he’s reorganizing all of the supplies. Nico sits down on one of the beds, and Will looks around.

“You should be sleeping.”

Nico glares. “You’re the one who woke me up.”

Will has the decency to look ashamed. “I’m sorry. I guess I got kind of… carried away.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Will sighs. “It’s just… when I was looking up things you were saying I read… well… you call me an idiot a lot.”

Nico blinks at the boy in front of him. All he can think to say is, “You needed an Italian-English dictionary to figure out _idiota_ meant _idiot?”_

Will turns red. “I thought it might be one of those words that sounds like something but isn’t really! Like… like _ananas_ in French, you’d think it would be banana, but it means pineapple. I thought… well, I was hoping it was like that.”

Nico takes a deep breath. Then he says, calmly, “You’re an idiot.”

“So you’ve told me,” Will says bitterly. Nico rolls his eyes.

“I call you an idiot about twice a day, Will.”

“In _English._ To my _face._ I know you don’t mean it –”

Nico snorts. “I definitely mean it –”

Ignoring this, Will continues. “But when you call me an idiot behind my back it means you actually think I’m an idiot.”

“Technically it’s not behind your back.”

“It’s in Italian.”

“It’s literally the word _idiot_ with an _a.”_

“Nico!” He’s clearly genuinely upset. Nico sighs. This wasn’t a conversation he had wanted to have, and definitely not at seven in the morning, but there was clearly some damage control he had to do.

“You said I spoke too fast and you couldn’t pick up any other words, right?”

Will nods.

“So did you ever think that maybe there’s more to the sentence then just an isolated _idiot?”_

Will looks at him in confusion. “Well… no.”

“Of course not,” Nico mutters. “I don’t just call you an idiot, Solace. Even though you definitely deserve it.”

“Then what do you say?”

The tips of Nico’s ears start burning. “It’s not important,” he mumbles. Will steps closer, interest piqued.

“I think it’s very important.”

“You think daily vitamins are important.”

“Daily vitamins _are_ important, di Angelo. Tell me you don’t feel infinitely better since I started making you take them.”

“That is not the point.”

“You’re right. So what do you say?”

The redness starts creeping, to his cheeks and down his neck, and he finds he can’t look Will in the eye. “So… vitamins.”

Will crosses his arms, but his eyes are bright and there’s a little smile curving along his mouth. “What do you say about me in Italian, Nico?”

“I was lying, I call you an idiot, I call you awful, awful names –”

Will is smiling a full-blown smile now. “That means you’d rather me be angry at you than tell me what you’re saying. That means it’s something _mushy_ and _romantic –”_

“Do I look like the type of person to be mushy and romantic?”

“That’s why you say it in Italian so I can’t understand.” Will is smiling so widely, Nico can only think to call it _maniacal._

“I don’t say anything. I don’t even speak Italian.”

Will steps closer, laughing. “You’re floundering. You’re freaking out. What are you saying about me in Italian?”

Nico stands up. “I think I hear my father calling –”

Will grabs him by the waist and pulls him to him, laughing when Nico tries to look annoyed. “Tell me,” he whispers. “Tell me what you say.”

Will tilts Nico’s face up to him and kisses him gently. “Please?” He whispers, fingers on Nico’s neck. Nico can see no feasible way out of this situation, so he sighs and stares at his feet and whispers so quietly he can barely hear himself.

“I can’t hear you,” Will says in a sing-song voice. Nico is praying to his father to open up the earth and swallow him whole.

“I say I can’t believe I’m in love with such an idiot,” he mutters, very quickly and quietly, hoping that maybe Will won’t hear him. Will freezes, hand tightening on Nico’s neck.

“What?”

Nico takes a shaky breath and tries to step away, but Will holds tight.

“I’m not saying it again,” he mutters.

And then Will smiles, wide and bright and beautiful, and kisses Nico again, pushing him backwards until Nico feels his back hit the wall. He hisses in pain.

“You’re a terrible doctor.”

“Say it in Italian.”

“Sei un terribile medico.”

Will rolls his eyes. “I meant the other thing you said. Say it in Italian. For me?”

Nico sighs as if this is some great trouble for him, but the truth is saying the same words in a different language don’t embarrass him nearly as much.

“Non posso credere di essermi innamorato di un tale idiota.”  
  
Will kisses him again, fiercely.

“I’m an idiot.”

“No fucking kidding.”

“I love you.”

Nico smiles.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Will whispers. Nico just grabs the front of Will’s shirt and kisses him more, Will’s hands sliding down from his neck, fingers finding their way up Nico’s shirt, caressing his bare skin.

_"Nico di Angelo! William Solace!”_

Will springs away from Nico so quickly that he would be impressed if he weren’t so busy trying to die.

Chiron is standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed. If you’ve never been stared down angrily by a Centaur while you’re semi-hard, consider yourself lucky. Nico would not recommend it.

“This is an _infirmary,_ ” Chiron says, staring both of them down in turn. Nico wonders how much trouble he would be in if he shadow jumped away from this entire scene. “If I have to assign you two chaperones I will not hesitate to do so.”

“Sorry,” Will mutters. Nico firmly avoids his eye; he has a funny feeling if he looks Will in the eye he will burst out laughing. Chiron dismisses them – “if you’re awake enough to do this, Mr. di Angelo, you should be awake enough to fully participate in camp activities today.” “No, Chiron. I’m sorry.”

Nico walks back to his cabin with Will, the exhaustion that had been fought off by so much kissing finally catching up to him.

“Please don’t wake me up again,” he mutters as he opens his door. Will smiles and kisses him lightly.

“Promise.”

“And throw out that goddamn dictionary. I’ll translate from now on.”

Will shakes his head, smirking. “No way. I’m going to figure out what other mushy things you say about me.”

“Fuck off, Solace.”

“That means there’s more!” Will cackles, kisses him, and then bounds off. Nico shakes his head, debates learning another language, and then falls into bed. He’s asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.


End file.
